Beautiful
by AbiMF
Summary: A Rachel-centric Reddie one-parter, set sometime after 4.10, a little AU.


**Beautiful – a Rachel one-parter**

I've never been beautiful. When I was younger, much younger, I was always the shy one, the bright one. It sounds like a compliment until you get the other half of it; Mel was the pretty one, the popular one and the one who would go somewhere. My good grades never really mattered to my parents, they were more bothered about the fact that whenever we went to family gatherings I was the one sat quietly in a corner while Mel was off chatting to anyone and everyone, her blonde hair bouncing around her shoulders as she walked confidently around in three-inch heels and a pretty dress.

My hair would be tied up, then. Always clean and neat, but I never bothered to do anything with it, and I would much rather spend my money on books than clothes that I would wear once and then throw out. The heels didn't come until later, Mel might have been much younger than me but she was wearing them for years before I ever did, I never saw the point. They were uncomfortable and no one was going to notice me anyway, so there was no point in putting myself through that. I used to resent Mel then, particularly as we got older and she got invited to all the parties, arriving home at two in the morning giggling about some guy while I sat in my room studying. I worked all the time, but it wasn't through choice anymore, it was because that was my role. As we'd got older, my entire life had become eroded so that all that I was known for even by my parents was my good grades. If I didn't keep those up, I would have nothing.

I was seventeen when it all went wrong. I'd known something was up for a few weeks; there was just something different about her. Mel, that is. She'd always been a bit silly at times, but the rumours at school were just getting worse and worse, it didn't sound like my sister anymore. I tried to talk to her about it once, but she just laughed at me cruelly, telling me that she was growing up and getting a life, and maybe I should try it sometime. That was when I knew something had changed. She might have been the popular one, but my little sister had always been wonderful to me, I knew through the grapevine that she wouldn't hear a bad word said about me at school. So in that moment, as she watched me crumble at her words and walked away, I realised I didn't know her anymore. She wasn't the little girl I'd grown up with.

Three days later, I found the drugs. I didn't and still don't know what exactly it was that she was taking, but the look on her face when I found the white powder in her handbag told me all I needed to know. I told her she needed to get help, but she laughed at me once again. I think that was when I snapped, calling to my parents in an attempt to force her to realise the seriousness of the situation. I have wished so many times that I could go back and change the moment when I shouted down the stairs to them. I saw the panic in her eyes as their footsteps approached, and then her gaze hardened. Two hours later, I was on the streets, having been thrown out of the house for taking drugs and then trying to pin it on my perfect sister.

I wasn't the quiet one anymore, and I definitely wasn't the bright one. I was one of a thousand girls reduced to pieces of meat. Only a year ago I had longed for guys to find me attractive, to _want_ me, and now that I was being paid to sleep with them I realised something. I was still invisible. I didn't feel beautiful, I didn't even feel attractive, although I guess I must have been to survive like that. But who I was never mattered, what I looked like didn't really; I was just a tool for their pleasure, not a person anymore. Some of the men would refer to me as 'beautiful' or 'gorgeous' but I've never felt as disgusting as I did then.

When I finally escaped from that life, having made enough money to get myself through uni, I completely threw myself into my studies once more, my social skill were still pretty poor from never having had 'normal' relationships with people, and I hated the social scene, finding it far too reminiscent of my recent history. For the first time in my life, I actively tried to be invisible, and it worked. I got through my degree silently, and even now I have no idea how I cope with absolutely no support network and no real friends.

It was my first teaching job when I finally started to feel as though I was worth something. I was still somewhat awkward with other adults, but I found I could really relate to some of the kids there, and for the first time in my life, someone respected me. I didn't just feel bright, as though my school work was all there was to me, and I no longer felt completely worthless, I felt intelligent and engaging. I'll never forget the first time I stood in front of a group of thirty teenagers and asked them to be quiet, and they shut up.

I guess my life started to look up from there, really. I moved schools a few times, gradually gaining more and more responsibilities and respect from my peers, and found my confidence growing, along with my ability to relate to people and get my point of view across. My professional life flourished, and I even found myself making proper friends for the first time in my life, people I could be myself with, well, almost. Because there was always that fear. The fear that they would discover who I really was. That I wasn't an intelligent, respectable woman from a good family background doing a job she enjoyed. That, in reality, I was an ex-prostitute clinging to teaching because it was the only thing I'd ever been any good at. Still, I was good at hiding my feelings, something I'd perfected during my teenage years, and no-one was any the wiser about the true Rachel Mason. Or rather, that Rachel Mason was in fact Amanda Fenshaw.

Waterloo Road was a big turning point for me. Being given the headship felt like someone saying, 'you know what? You're good at this' and it was the best feeling I've ever experienced. I love it here, and I've loved it from my very first day, there's just so much life in the place, it's unlike anywhere else I've ever worked. I don't know whether it was the atmosphere here, or the people, or just my growing confidence, but I found myself connecting much more with the people around me than I ever have before. Or, more to the point, with one person in particular; Eddie. I laugh when I think back to how awful he was to me on my first day, although it didn't take long for us to begin to work together, and that working relationship pretty quickly became something more. I could feel myself falling for him, getting ever closer to him, and for once in my life, I welcomed it. There was just something about him, about the way he looked at me. I felt… special.

And then it all fell apart. I thought I'd almost escaped from my past, but just as I was moving on with my life, Stuart popped up, and brought it right back to the forefront of my mind again. I could deal with that, somehow, I could deal with his taunts and jibes and the threat to my professional life, and I could just about keep my head above water and believe it would all be okay. Then Eddie found out. I'll never forget the look on his face when he confronted me, the disgust. I thought I'd got over it, but in that moment I realised I never truly would. Right then, I longed for the days when I was invisible, because at least it didn't hurt as much as being disgusting, as much as being hated.

And then it all turned around. He forgave me, he decided he still wanted to spend time with me, that I was still a worthwhile person to be around even though I had a past. I'll never forget that moment in my office, when they were both there, Stuart and Eddie, and Stuart was taunting me, and him, dragging Eddie into my mess, and I could see it all disappearing, I knew his support wouldn't extend that far, and then he hit him. Now, I know I shouldn't condone violence, particularly not in my own school, in my own [i]office[/i] but I wanted to run around my desk and throw my arms around him in that moment. Yes, Eddie's response may not have been the best way of dealing with the situation, but it was so supportive, such a strong signal that he was going to stand by me, that I was worth it, and I realised that I had, truly moved on. I had changed, to the extent where someone was willing to stand by me, so that when it went one step further, and my past was revealed to the entire school I was scared, of course I was, but I didn't feel worthless anymore.

And then the fire happened. I couldn't think about myself when the school got engulfed in flames, all I could think of were the students, and the staff, and Eddie. And when I went for that last check round, and saw Stuart lying there, I was tempted to just leave him there and leave the school, to run into Eddie's arms and let the firemen do their job. But, deep down, I knew that my life would never be worth as much as anyone else's, and so I stayed, trying to get him to safety. I failed, and I nearly killed myself in the process. And when I woke up in hospital, scared and scarred, all I could see was the fact that I had failed. I had begun to feel like someone towards the end of the last year, with Eddie by my side I felt like I was finally doing alright. But I wasn't, and as I left the hospital to return to school, all I could hear was my parents' words from years previously ringing in my ears; 'You've failed us, Amanda, after all we've done for you, you've failed us and everyone else.'

I don't know how I got through that first day back, I really wasn't ready to be there, and if it wasn't for Eddie I suspect I'd have failed completely. But I did begin to feel better, being back in charge of the school, because I was good at it, and I was in control. I've replayed that evening so many times in my head, the feel of Eddie's hand, warm against my cheek, as he whispered those three words to me; 'You're special, Rachel.' I'd felt it, months earlier, and I'd thought that maybe there was something between Eddie and me, but since the fire that had changed. When I'd led Denzil out of the building with that gun, I realised that I could do this, that I wasn't as much of a failure as I'd felt that morning, but I still felt ugly. And when I showed Eddie my scar, I was sure that was how he would see me too.

I went home and cried that night, certain that I couldn't get any more miserable, because I'd pushed the man I was falling for away and he'd never want to be with me, but I was wrong. Because over the next few weeks, my life got a whole lot worse. To this day I don't know how I kept it together when around every corner Eddie was flirting with my sister, snogging my sister, moving in with my sister and asking her to marry him. I'd thought that my new-found sense of self-worth came from my professional life looking up, but as he left me to be with my sister, I found it had come from Eddie. Without him, I was nothing. I was unattractive, and old, and worthless, and no amount of professional success could change that.

That night at the school, when I confronted Mel, was one of the most confusing nights of my life. Because once again, as she had more than twenty years earlier, she tried to turn the situation on me, to make it my fault. I should have felt guilty, or betrayed, I guess. But I didn't. I felt important. I felt as though maybe I was important enough to change things. As she accused Eddie of being in love with me, I realised that maybe I had changed sufficiently that I was able to be loved, and what's more, to be loved over and above my perfect sister.

At lot has changed since that night. But one thing has remained the same, and that's Eddie feelings for me. They're out in the open now, as are mine for him, and we're officially 'together'. And as I lie here in his arms, drifting slowly off to sleep, I realise something; for the first time in my life, I feel beautiful.


End file.
